Denizen of the Underworld

[hellbentley]

[Crowley is sitting in the afternoon sun in a casual sprawl outside, with a rock to his back. He's mostly healed and cleaned up. The little cut on his neck is almost gone. His voice is still a little bit hoarse but not as bad as it was. He had to trash his little gray scarf. No way was he getting the blood stains out. Fortunately his jacket and shirt are darker so it helps hide the blood stains.]

[He's definitely trying to cultivate a cucumber cool look, because vulnerability just isn't his thing.]

[He doesn't know how many people happened to be on their mirrors during the...incident. But at least one of his two attackers walked away angry, yelling about how he'd set the place on fire. The Easter Bunny is also awfully suspicious of him.]

[And word gets around.]

[He's got to control the narrative, especially since Aziraphale would absolutely get between him and a mob. He's not used to there needing to being any narrative at all since humans never pick up on what he is, so he's not sure how to go about this.]

Alright. I don't actually know how many of you saw me exposed for what I am on these things, but I know at least a few people know now. And people talk. At this point, it's best if I'm just up front about it.

My name is Crowley and I'm a demon.

That probably means all different things in all different worlds. In mine it means a former servant of the Lord, fallen from grace, now an infernal being from the Pit, tempter of souls, et cetera et cetera.

And I was good at it. I was the serpent who talked Eve into eating the forbidden fruit in the garden of Eden. [He looks into the distance and juts out his jaw a little.] My boss took credit for that one. Bosses for you, am I right?

[The cavalier attitude fades a little.]

Look, I didn't ask to be here and I'm not going to cause any trouble. I just want to stay alive, carry my weight, and then take my best friend and go home when it's all over. Back home, I'm not even working for Hell anymore anyway. I got fired.

So how about I continue leaving everyone be and everyone leaves me be, and we leave it at that?

[He raises a finger.]

Also, I would greatly appreciate it if people would stop poisoning the food with blessed substances. You don't see me going around putting cyanide in everything or something, do you? The only time I've ever messed with a human food supply was the time I exchanged a truck load of communion wafers with stale cream crackers.

It was mostly just for a giggle. Nobody even noticed the difference anyway.

Comments

[hellbentley]

Good guess. Yep, she was involved.

And a douchebag as usual.

[credit_not_blame]

Michael wore a close friend of some people I know as a skinsuit to try and kill all the supernatural things because apparently slaughtering everything not on the Ark's manifest was more important than dealing with the horror from beyond space and time. Burnt her up from the inside.

I didn't have too many interactions with demons. I don't feel the nigh-overwhelming urge to murder you, but I think that's proximity-based.

[hellbentley]

I...don't think the angels in my universe would go as far as wearing a skin suit.

But they sure didn't mind the Earth becoming a giant molten mess.

Only one of them tried to stop it.

[credit_not_blame]

Well, angels - or at least archangels - apparently can only work through living beings on Earth without causing major problems. But Michael didn't have to kill Anyanka to work through her. He just didn't care.

[Stacia's expression has darkened, but she pulls herself back to something more casual-conversation.]

We had two on our side, at least. Granted, I had to pull Gabriel out of a strip club first, but that was more of a "I don't want to be involved in another family fight", not ambivalence toward all life on Earth.

[hellbentley]

You had to what?

[It isn't often that he gets to experience unbridled delight. Sometimes he has to wait whole centuries between those moments. The eagerness in his expression to see where this is going makes that very clear.]

[credit_not_blame]

[She'd said it relatively casually, but Stacia isn't surprised to get that kind of reaction out of a demon vis-a-vis an angel in a strip club. She grins ad makes sure to speak clearly.]

I found the archangel Gabriel dancing in a strip club.

[hellbentley]

[He throws his head back and laughs. The laughter is loud and genuine and while it's half a mischievous cackle, it's also half genuinely joyful. He laughs like someone not used to laughing, who really ought to be laughing more often.]

[It's a nice laugh. Nowhere near the evil cackle you'd expect a demon to have, despite the mischief in it.]

[He actually has to wipe at his eyes when he's done, fingers reaching under his glasses, and is still smiling widely when he can finally speak again.]

Oh, if you only knew our world's Gabriel. Absolutely insufferable prick.

Mind you, I've got no issues with any ladies of ill repute myself. I've mingled with the crowds in those various professions as a woman myself often enough. Very difficult, perfectly respectable work.

Still funny, though, because he'd hate it.

[credit_not_blame]

[That's a good laugh. Sincere, full-bodied. And a little mischief never hurt anyone either. Puts her more in mind of Coyote than a demon, and Stacia's fond of trickster types in self-defense.]

If he's an insufferable prick, I think I'd prefer not to know him, thanks. Ours was at least willing to pitch in to keep the world from being destroyed once I talked her around. Which angel pitched in on yours, anyone I'd know without being a biblical scholar?